


The Honeyed Moon

by Anonymous_Me



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Retirement, honey bees, sherlockchallenge July 2018, url prompt challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 07:20:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15165503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous_Me/pseuds/Anonymous_Me
Summary: A little story about love and honey.





	The Honeyed Moon

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by the July 2018 prompt from Sherlockchallenge: URL.

Sherlock peeled the self-adhesive label off of the backing paper and carefully applied it to the jar, making sure that it was centered, level and that there were no bubbles stuck underneath it. Using both thumbs he smoothed it down and smiled to himself.

It was a jar of his very own honey. 

Well, technically it was the _bee’s_ honey, but he was their keeper. Surely they wouldn’t mind sharing. He kept their hives protected and safe and made sure they were positioned so as to be at the optimal conditions for making the honey. 

John made sure that the flower beds around their cottage were stocked to overflowing with dozens of varieties for the bees to choose from: roses, meadowsweet, honeysuckle, hollyhock and foxglove. John also scattered wildflower seeds on the acreage to the rear of the cottage just to make certain there was enough pollen and nectar for everyone. It was a riotous patchwork of color that most of the neighbors were jealous of.

Sherlock held the jar up to the light coming in the window of the little shed where his expeller was housed and smiled again. The honey was a deep golden amber and had a subtle floral fragrance.

“Is that the first batch?” John had come out to the shed to fetch Sherlock in for lunch. “Lunch is ready and we could try some of the honey on toast after.” John raised an eyebrow, “That is, if you’re willing to part with any if it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous John. Of course I want to try some. Just not this jar.” A fond look came over his features.

“You silly old man,” John teased, “You want save the first jar for sentimental reasons!” John stepped into the shed and wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s middle, pecking a kiss onto his cheek. “You’re going soft in your dotage, love.”

“Quite,” Sherlock replied. “Don’t tell anyone.” He gave John a squeeze and put the jar down on the work top. 

“What’s that?” John was turning the jar so the freshly applied label was facing him. He picked it up for a closer look.

The label was an oval and depicted an old fashioned dome-shaped beehive. Above the hive was a pale crescent moon and from the bottom point in the crescent was a single drop of honey. A banner with simple lettering ran across the bottom of the image: “The Honeyed Moon”.

“Sherlock?” John held the jar up so it was facing Sherlock. “The Honeyed Moon?”

“Yes.” Sherlock began, and then hesitated. “You’re going to think I’ve gone utterly soft now.” He took the jar from John and continued, “When we wed, we never got to go on a proper sex holiday...” 

“Honeymoon,” John cut him off, “Its called a honeymoon, Sherlock.”

“Alright, _honeymoon_. All we had was a quick ceremony at the registrar’s office, a quick reception and then we got called away on that triple homicide. It was exciting, but not a proper honeymoon.”

“It was the jewel heist turned self-kidnapping, and it was exciting.” John put the jar down, “But that doesn’t explain the name on your honey.”

“When I bought this place for our retirement, I thought it would be the same as Baker Street. You and I, living together. But since we’ve moved here, it’s felt like a honeymoon. Every day. At least to me it has.” Sherlock was blushing right up to his hairline by this point. “So, you see? The name just, fit.”

“Oh, you sweet, silly, sentimental darling! Me too. It’s been so very good, all of it.” John brushed a curl back from Sherlock’s forehead, “Its a lovely name.”

“If you ever tell my brother I said _any_ of that, I will poison your tea.” Sherlock’s mouth curved into a smirk at the mock-horrified look John pulled.

“You mean poison my tea _again_ , don’t you? Or have you deleted the experiment with making - “

Sherlock cut him off with a kiss, into which John laughed. “Alright, alright. I won’t speak of your big, mushy heart again.” John giggled some more and Sherlock kissed him again.

Pulling apart, John noticed there was a drop of honey depending from the spigot on the expeller. He reached for it, gathering the golden droplet with his thumb. 

“I know exactly how I want to taste this first batch.” John preceded to swipe his thumb along Sherlock’s bottom lip, smearing the honey onto the plump, rosy skin.

“Come here,” John said, pulling Sherlock in for another kiss.

John licked and nibbled his way into Sherlock’s mouth, his tongue carrying the sweetness of the honey along with it. They hummed in unison when the flavor bloomed in the combined warmth of their mouths.

Coming up for air, John smiled. “That’s the most delicious honey I’ve ever tasted. And I want to taste it off of every single part of your body.”

Sherlock moaned, running his own tongue over his lip, “Then let me fill another jar for our own, personal, use.”

***

John eventually talked Sherlock into selling his honey at the local farmer’s market, along side the berry preserves he made and bunches of cut flowers from their yard. The honey sold out every season, save for one jar that was labeled: 

“The Honeyed Moon. Private Reserve. SH/JW.”


End file.
